My friend directed me out of the warehouse and into the cool pre-dawn air. In case Dixie was still awake and watching my newly installed tracker, I shot her a text to say I was with Arran and I wouldn’t go far.
To the right, Deadwater River wound its way into town, the city sparkling against a navy-blue sky.
Arran shoved his hands into his pockets. “Dixie shared some information with Genevieve and gave her permission to pass it on to me. She described an assault in the brothel.” He scanned the bridge ahead, unhappiness crinkling his eyes. “I suspected as much when I worked out why Shade had taken Buck. I assume that’s why she left.”
He didn’t ask it as a question, so I kept my mouth shut.
“I’ll talk to her, if she’s willing. I’ll apologise and ask her for input on further safety measures for the women. I know it isn’t enough, but it’s a start.”
I dipped my head, a band tightening around my chest. It did every time someone did the right thing and put Dixie first. “I’ll pass on the message.”
“I’d appreciate it. I would have spoken to her directly, but I want to handle this sensitively. She’s put you between everyone else and her, and I want to respect that choice until she changes it.”
We continued on, a slow walk in the dark. Our boots on the cobbles, the scent of the river strong.
For several minutes, Arran didn’t speak, appearing to be stuck on how to start a sentence. In equal parts, I did and didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
His words, when they came, stunned me.
“I was abused as a kid. Physically, emotionally, and to a lesser degree sexually.”
My soul recoiled in on itself. I knew Arran had demons. He’d talked about his father being violent and killing his mother who’d been a sex worker. But there had never been details. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t look at me. “Genevieve knows everything I went through. All the shitty details that kept me up at night, including my attempts to sidestep the effects of my abuse. It can’t all be handled in blood.”
I released a breath. “Though that helps, doesn’t it?”
His mouth curved in the start of a smile. “Can’t deny that. But only temporarily. You told me not to try to push therapy, and I’m not, even if I can see the point of it. If I hadn’t found the words, my behaviour would have destroyed my relationship.”
He stooped to pick up a rock. Tossed it in an arc over the water where it disappeared beneath the black waves. “I would’ve lost her because of the shit that fucked me up. It gave my abusers more power, and that realisation changed me. I won’t pretend to understand what you went through. The only thing I’m certain about is naming the beast. Saying it out loud to the person you trust to listen.”
Every part of me rejected what he was doing. Death was easier than confession. He’d framed our conversation neatly. He’d shown me my position of trust with Dixie. How she was using me as a buffer against the world. But in exchange, I was giving her nothing but blood and obsession.
My friend finally landed his focus on me. “I was in freefall from the minute I met Genevieve. I’m fucking lucky she puts up with me. If she feels sorry for me, I’ll take that pity because it helps the kid version of me who suffered. That child deserved nothing less. If I act out on her now, she puts me in my place with an understanding of where it came from. Believe me, she pushes that back on me to handle. If she didn’t know, she would’ve walked a long time ago.”
I opened my mouth to say that Genevieve was a strong woman, but then I shut it. I wouldn’t imply Dixie was not. Wounded, sure. But she had strength in her I barely understood.
Dixie wouldn’t just pity me. It would take the focus off where it needed to be, on her. And I didn’t know how to survive that.
“So, advice given. Do with that what you like. Now I have a complaint.” Arran faced me, his expression losing the edge of devastation, replaced with the in-control man I knew. “What the fuck is with your revenge mission where you invite half my crew but not me?”
I blinked. “Ye want in?”
He punched my arm, hard, and turned his steps back to the warehouse. “I’m offended you had to ask.”
Chapter 29
Dixie
I woke in Tyler’s arms. The first time we’d spent a night in the same bed together, though he’d come up late, and remained on top of the covers and half-dressed.
Didn’t stop me snuggling deeper into him. If he thought I wasn’t taking advantage of warm gangster chest, he didn’t know me at all.
For a few perfectly content moments, he held me, his soft exhale heavenly. Then he seemed to remember himself.
Tyler kissed my forehead and climbed out of bed. “I’ll fetch breakfast.”
He slid black jeans up his thick legs, giving me a wink when he caught me watching, then left me for his task.
